6 Ways to maximize impact with donor advised funds

Editor’s note: The ongoing debate regarding donor advised funds focuses largely on whether they need to be more tightly regulated and transparent, and whether they merit the tax advantages they provide. However, we can ask an entirely different set of questions that have much more to do with the ways in which DAFs actually operate: What are the best practices for DAF sponsors who aim both to provide valuable services for their donor clients and to serve their communities in alignment with their values? This post by Liberty Hill Foundation describes their approach.

Donor advised funds (DAFs) are well known for their convenience and incentives to donors. They are anonymous, have no annual payout requirements and place no taxes on capital growth.

And with relatively low startup costs, a public foundation can have a new DAF up and running for a donor in a matter of days.

However, recent debates have raised questions about the fairness and impact of DAFs, and the responsibility of public foundations to ensure that money is flowing consistently from DAFs into communities, rather than idling in accounts.

With a 60% annual payout rate – 70% of which goes to L.A.-based organizations – Liberty Hill Foundation’s DAF holders are particularly engaged in local grantmaking.

Here are 6 practices employed by Liberty Hill that other community foundations can use to maximize the impact of donor advised fund programs:

1. Provide donor education

According to a 2016 study from California Community Foundation and UCLA’s Luskin School of Public Affairs, 80% of Angelenos wanted to do more for their communities, but 40% said they didn’t know how to make a difference.

Community foundations have the power to marshal their knowledge, experience and resources to direct money toward desired outcomes – an extremely valuable attribute for DAF holders who want to boost their impact.

If your foundation has the resources, conduct research into causes that your donors might want to support and relay your findings back to them in an accessible format.

Share dockets of the most impactful organizations or host informational workshops for your DAF holders.

Liberty Hill has hosted sessions on topics ranging from housing justice and youth incarceration, to identifying effective nonprofits and impact investing.

During 40 years of grantmaking sharply focused on Los Angeles, Liberty Hill has accumulated a wealth of institutional knowledge that our DAF holders can rely on to inform their giving. That is one reason 70% of the grants from Liberty Hill’s DAFs go to organizations benefiting local communities.

2. Break isolation

By allowing donors to take a more hands-on approach to grantmaking, DAFs can provide a sense of autonomy.

However, fostering a feeling of community among your DAF holders can also have strong positive effects on their philanthropic behavior.

One way to build connection is through giving circles, in which small groups of donors unite around common causes and pool their resources for greater impact.

At Liberty Hill, 25% of DAF holders participate in giving circles, which specialize in everything from environmental justice to empowering women to lifting up Black communities.

By attending site visits with their giving circles and comparing their notes on grantmaking options, DAF holders interact with one another, share their knowledge and increase their understanding of the funding landscape.

Also, consider bringing your DAF holders together through events or presentations. At Liberty Hill, we hold a Strategic Philanthropy Workshop series, where experienced donors serve as guest speakers, sharing information on topics such as election year giving.

Many of Liberty Hill’s DAF holders are also part of the foundation’s Advisory Council, which brings higher-level donors together for talks and panel discussions with elected officials and policymakers.

These types of gatherings can give longtime DAF holders platforms to have their voices heard and provide ways for newer DAF holders to boost their philanthropic knowledge.

When donors can see how their peers are giving and feel like they are part of the same conversation – or better yet, the same movement – it can foster a culture of highly enthusiastic and ambitious grantmaking.

3. Facilitate meaningful connections

For many DAF holders, the level of connection they feel to the work of grantee organizations will affect how much they are compelled to give and how they approach philanthropy in general.

Encourage your DAF holders to become personally invested in your cause by providing opportunities for them to meet and see grantees in action.

At Liberty Hill, we offer van tours, which allow donors to visit the locations where struggles for social justice are playing out and hear directly from organizers and impacted community members.

Community foundations can also help DAF holders feel connected to the work by exposing them to organizations that match their interests.

Shortly after the 2016 election, Liberty Hill DAF holder Renee Dake Wilson wondered if there was a cohort of young women activists who needed resources to get to Washington, D.C., for the historic Women’s March in January 2017.

Liberty Hill helped connect Dake Wilson with the Dream Resource Center, where a group of young DACA eligible women was hoping for just that chance.

Dake Wilson sent the young Dreamers to D.C. where they proudly marched for the rights of DACA youth and undocumented women and girls.

These powerful interactions with grantees can be the moments that make it all worthwhile for philanthropists and keep them coming back.

4. Aggregate the power of DAFs

Having a sense of alignment among donors opens up possibilities for combining the power of DAFs.

For example, California Community Foundation’s DAF holders joined forces to support a community housing fund that reached $10 million – far beyond the scope of what one DAF could have done on its own.

Liberty Hill’s Queer Youth Fund similarly demonstrates the value of donor collaboration. Founded in 2002 by three DAF holders, the fund has since involved many more donors and granted nearly $5 million specifically to small, youth-led organizations focused on LGBTQ issues.

Furthermore, building a strong brand with a defined mission will help attract DAF holders who are open to collaborating with one another.

If your foundation appeals to donors who are relatively united in their goals, ask them to use their funds to back your foundation’s key grantmaking efforts and seek 100% participation.

When one DAF holder agreed to match grants up to $100,000 to support Liberty Hill’s Agenda for a Just Future policy initiative, other DAF holders were prompted to take action.

5. Invest for impact

Grantmaking is a DAF’s primary focus, but don’t overlook investing strategies. By keeping unspent dollars in socially responsible portfolios, community foundations can make DAF assets work for good even while they are waiting to be disbursed.

Social impact investing is increasingly popular as account holders gain access to more options, such as environmental screens, and see returns consistent with the broader stock market.

Noting that more than 60% of Liberty Hill’s DAF holders are women, the foundation added a gender lens strategy to the list of options for those who choose to keep their funds invested.

This growth strategy invests in large-cap companies that demonstrate strong performance records and include women in significant roles, including chairwoman, CEO and chief financial officer, and have women make up at least 20% of the board or 25% of senior management.

6. Make it simple, make it personal

Lastly, it is important to make using a DAF fund as easy as possible. Provide a secure online portal and a direct personal contact for DAF holders’ grantmaking.

Know their interests and suggest specific places for them to direct their giving. Make sure they understand the value of participating in your DAF program as opposed to navigating the field on their own.

Removing barriers that might inhibit donors from using their DAFs, and providing plenty of guidance and support, help Liberty Hill’s DAFs attain a high payout rate of 60% annually, which they replenish with new deposits for further grantmaking.

Since DAFs provide an excellent entry point into philanthropy, ensuring your DAF holders feel fulfilled can have big returns in the future.

Sarah Vaill is director of philanthropy at Liberty Hill Foundation. Follow @sarahvaill and @LibertyHill on Twitter.

A few years ago, after I’d carefully planned and marketed a webinar, one of our board members notified me that the date conflicted with Rosh Hashanah.

A colleague working with me on the project advised me to cancel it, but I hesitated. How many people would we really lose if we moved forward with the date we selected?

Ultimately I cancelled it, but I have seen this scenario play out over and over again.

This year a Jewish colleague was invited to an event important to our work, but the date conflicted with Rosh Hashanah. When she brought it to the attention of the organizers, their response was similar to mine several years ago.

“Others can’t come either for a variety of reasons,” they said, “but we will move forward with our existing plans.”

When she posted about her experience on social media, many other Jews who work in progressive circles echoed her frustration and shared similar experiences. Muslims, Hindus and others who observe non-Christian religious holidays have shared similar experiences with me.

Decisions like this are more than a faux pas in diversity and inclusion practice; they reflect strategic oversights that progressive organizations and funders have been making for years.

By failing to accommodate or consider the practices and priorities of faith communities that share commitment to our issues and our work, we exclude key constituents that can help us be successful.

My hesitation was partially due to my privilege as a Christian, whose major holidays are acknowledged nationally. I didn’t have a full understanding how important Rosh Hashanah is to some of NCRP’s key constituents.

Instead of taking the word of a respected board member, I wanted more proof or data about how this would affect people before I changed my well-thought-out plan. This is textbook power and privilege.

But given the prevalence of the incidents like this, I think there is also some implicit bias at play. And that bias has larger repercussions than events scheduling. 

In 2016 NCRP hosted a webinar about the historic and present role of faith communities and faith-based movements in advancing social justice. A common theme was the decrease in foundation funding for faith-based social justice work. NCRP nonprofit members echo the same feedback.

In short, funders with explicit faith-based values aren’t funding social justice work. And social justice funders aren’t funding faith-based work.

In numerous conversations with funders who follow this trend and grant recipients who experience it, none can give a clear answer about why it’s happening. Some funders, like Marguerite Casey Foundation, and Proteus Fund and its partners, defy the trend, by there are very few.

Thankfully we in the U.S. have the freedom to practice religion as we choose, or not to practice at all. I have been in dialogue with movement leaders, and others, who reject institutional religions for sound reasons.

But it is irrational for highly inclusive and strategic institutions to make choices that exclude people of faith who are allies and constituents. 

While it is silly to do it in acute ways, like scheduling an event on a holiday, it is dangerous to do it in systemic ways, like excluding faith-based social justice groups from funding strategies.

Systemic change requires movement and coalition building, and we cannot afford to dismiss existing and active allies.

My colleague and my board member challenged me to not only check my privilege as I decided what was important, but also created space for me to consider the implications of excluding core constituents from a strategic discussion about how we can advance common goals. 

This year, on Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), social justice organizations and philanthropy can take the opportunity to apologize for our oversights and commit to more inclusive practices that are not only right, but also necessary for our collective victory. 

Jeanné Isler is the VP and chief engagement officer at NCRP. She also serves on the board of Faith in Public Life and is a former faith-based community organizer. Follow @j_lachapel and @NCRP on Twitter.

Image by Alex Proimos. Used under Creative Commons license.

In a recent critique of commercial gift funds (sponsors of donor-advised funds affiliated with financial industry giants like Fidelity, Schwab and Vanguard), Drummond Pike suggests that “Anyone who thinks any of these institutions decided to start offering donor-advised funds purely from a desire to prompt more giving to nonprofits needs a lesson in altruism.”

Pike, founder and former CEO of Tides Foundation, goes on to recommend that “DAFs should be treated with rules mirroring those applied to private foundations,” and that “charities should be expected to use objective, transparent standards and commitment to the public good in the management of their assets.”

Many of the suggestions for ensuring greater transparency and accountability make good sense. But at the end of the day, if we really want to address the rapidly increasing inequitable accumulation of wealth, we need to take a much broader look at tax policies than just those governing what donors can or cannot claim as tax deductions for charitable giving.

In other words: Follow the money.

Image courtesy of Steve Wamhoff, Institute on Taxation and Economic Policy (ITEP)

DAFs, Big philanthropy and the tax system

Not a few of the criticisms aimed at DAFs could be applied equally to problematic practices and perquisites inherent in Big Philanthropy as a whole, which a slew of thought leaders and journalists – the Institute for Policy Studies’ Chuck Collins, Helen Flannery and Josh Hoxie, the New Yorker’s Elizabeth Kolbert, Rob Reich and Anand Giridharadas to name a few – have detailed extensively of late. Such critiques aren’t new: NCRP’s emerita board member Terry Odendahl wrote incisively about this in her 1990 book, Charity Begins At Home: Generosity And Self-interest Among The Philanthropic Elite, which argued that “philanthropy is essential to the maintenance and perpetuation of the upper class in the United States.”

The increasing popularity of DAFs is due in large part to the tax breaks they give donors relative to other forms of giving, and the benefits of those breaks only multiply the higher you go up the income wealth ladder. But, ultimately, the advantages that distinguish DAFs and philanthropic giving in general rest on wider privileges built into the tax system as a whole.

The assets in DAFs are indeed growing at a good clip. But the amount of wealth piling up in these funds barely registers in comparison with the trillions of dollars that the wealthy accumulate – and all too often shield from taxation – that are not sitting in charitable accounts. Vanguard, Schwab and Fidelity have nearly $11 trillion in assets under management on their for-profit sides, compared to the roughly $35 billion in the donor advised funds they manage.

Or take a look at the big picture on capital gains, which are taxed at 20 percent – a substantially lower top rate than the 37 percent rate for ordinary income. Economists project that as a direct result of the preferentially lower tax rates for capital gains and stock dividends, the country will lose an astounding $152 billion in tax revenue for 2019.

What role do DAFS play in this picture? The National Philanthropic Trust’s most recent (2017) report shows some $23 billion donated to DAFs in the last report year. If 30 percent of that figure represented otherwise taxable long-term capital gains, the amount of uncollected capital gains taxes would be approximately $1.4 billion or less than 1 percent of the total loss.

Seen in this light, a narrow effort to push DAFs to revert to prevailing philanthropic norms seems insufficient to the enormity of the task at hand.

Inequitable tax system: the elephant in the room

The bottom line is that a discussion of DAFs inside the philanthropic community that fails to look at much greater inequities baked into the tax system as a whole leaves the proverbial elephant planted squarely in the middle of the room.

The sector would do well to look not only inward, but also outward as it seeks to address the scourge of wealth concentration and inequality in our new gilded age.

Dan Petegorsky is senior fellow and director of public policy at NCRP. Follow @ncrp on Twitter.

Image courtesy of Steve Wamhoff, Institute on Taxation and Economic Policy (ITEP)

Two ways that grantmakers can encourage more risk-taking among leaders and staff

Philanthropy has an uncertain relationship with risk. Foundations big and small couch their strategies around innovation – often complemented by statements about their willingness to take risks in pursuit of those strategies. However, given funders’ current interest in evidence-based work and easily quantifiable results, most haven’t demonstrated an actual willingness or ability to embrace risk.

Much of the conversation about risk relates to the risk of a “failed” grant or grantmaking strategy and risk associated with programmatic focus. Few funders are at the forefront on thorny issues, and even fewer are willing to put themselves out in public in service to the greater good. This is a particular problem on the local and state levels where foundation actions are viewed in the context of history and relationships.

There is one important philanthropic risk that never gets talked about: a risk that likely is the most powerful and overriding influence on foundation actions. It’s a risk that is not programmatic, legal or compliance-focused. It isn’t even particularly about the reputation of the funder. It’s the risk of the personal.

Personal risks

Jobs in the foundation world are few and far between. Few people leave philanthropy willingly. Entry points are scarce. So are opportunities to move up the career ladder. Yet for those lucky enough to secure them, philanthropy jobs pay well. They typically come with good retirement and health care benefits, in addition to personal and professional clout that are envied by many. And even on the worst days, having a job where “doing good” is the primary focus can be personally fulfilling.

The fact that foundation jobs are so desirable creates an interesting juxtaposition: Very few people are willing to jeopardize the comfort, security and fulfillment of their philanthropic jobs by taking the lead on philanthropic risks.

This creates an interesting dynamic: While funders purport to seek leaders who are risk-takers and innovators to solve entrenched problems, few funders provide the true support needed for personal risk-taking. It is worth noting that nonprofits and, importantly, individuals working on the front lines to address inequities and injustice in their communities are risking their social, intellectual and financial capital in ways that foundations often don’t match.

A cycle of risk-aversion

Instead, a cycle of false homage to innovation and risk occurs: Search firms describe how a foundation is looking for someone not afraid of failure or someone willing to make the big bets that make a difference. Candidates will be told that the board is pleased with the current direction but wants to take more chances. Successful candidates will convince the board that a bold and visionary leader is exactly what they need to ensure a legacy of philanthropic effectiveness. The brave new leader will be hired, but once he or she slips inside the foundation walls, the reality hits.

The new leader embarks on a journey of focus groups, listening sessions and due diligence intended to inform the funder’s ability to be innovative, bold and take risks. The foundation will issue a new strategic direction with a “bold” agenda informed by community, yet no specific public commitment to trying work that hasn’t been tested or prescribed. The funder may spend years methodically pursuing its plan but without much relevance or urgency for its communities, stakeholders and nonprofit partners – until a “new” strategy is issued with fanfare about risk and innovation only to start the cycle over again.

A few years of this and risk aversion becomes deeply embedded in the culture of the foundation. Board members become accustomed to and comfortable with the low-risk environment. Senior staff focus more on managing the board’s tolerance for risk than evaluating the need for risk-taking. And program staff express guarded interest or skepticism in a new idea, since enthusiasm in an “unproven” idea or organization may come across as too risky.

Breaking the cycle

So how can foundations break this cycle?

First, board and senior leaders should ask themselves: Are we playing it too safe? How willing are staff and board members to risk their own status in service to a potentially change-making idea? Moreover, what does risk mean for a funder?

Sadly, I’ve seen a statewide health funder dedicated to serving the access needs of disadvantaged populations refuse to sign on to simple petitions to support both Medicaid expansion and 2020 census advocacy. I have witnessed a local education funder that tinkered with issues of student achievement deem it too risky to talk about segregation. And then there was a social justice funder that was hesitant to elevate the issues within a growing Latino community for fear of being accused of supporting illegal behavior.

Imagine what might have happened if they allowed (or even encouraged) individual staff and board to ask, “Are we taking enough risk?”

Second, foundations can create environments that acknowledge and provide support for personal risk-taking. This could come in the form of:

• Making risk-taking a laudable part of job performance rather than a punishable one.
• Ensuring that risk-taking is a whole-team exercise, so that staff and board are aligned and support one another when the going gets risky.
• Encourage staff and board to be transparent about when they feel an action may carry uncomfortable risk to themselves.
• Celebrating “failures” (as some foundations have done) as opportunities to learn and build knowledge of frontline staff who experience the results of risk-taking to further the collective wisdom of the entire foundation.

I invite funders to acknowledge that philanthropic work can – and probably should – include enough risk to make staff and board leaders feel a little personally uncomfortable.

That’s how we’ll know we’re truly helping to lead our communities toward solutions, rather than resting comfortably in a risk-free status quo.

Allen Smart is a philanthropic advisor who specializes in health and rural giving. He previously served as vice president of programs at Kate B. Reynolds Charitable Trust. Follow @allensmart6 and @NCRP on Twitter.

“Truth is ever to be found in simplicity, and not in the multiplicity and confusion of things.”

– Sir Isaac Newton

Sometimes it is helpful for a genius to remind you what is important, especially one who discovered most of the laws that govern the operation of the natural world and, ultimately, our lives.

Sir Isaac Newton defined the laws of motion and the forces, such as friction, that shape the way we move and act. And these same insights can inform how we can transform the practice of philanthropy for the better by eliminating some of the “friction” that takes us away from the truth of simplicity.

We bring the perspectives of a philanthropist and a grantseeker to this issue, united in the belief that the size and urgency of the challenges facing us today require that we accelerate the progress of the social sector and how it is funded and supported.

4 Sources of “friction” in philanthropy

Let’s start by asking a deceptively simple question: What are the major sticking points in the practice of philanthropy where we feel the strongest sparks of friction?

1. The DANCE of Donor Cultivation and Prospecting

Social change is a relationship-based business that aims to solve global, systemic problems. This structure creates a fundamental mismatch between the sources of funds and the customers who use these funds to deliver programs, services and products; conduct research or undertake advocacy.

While these uses often operate on market principles, requiring consistency of access to and use of capital to achieve goals, most sources of funds have few accountability mechanisms besides a payout percentage and general board oversight, which means capital can be delivered in ways that are lumpy, unpredictable or unexpected.

This mismatch has major consequences on how grantseekers find, research, cultivate and engage donors.

2. The MAZE of Grant Applications

Once the grantee has scaled the barriers to entry, the real complexity sets in.

While most philanthropies have moved to online systems, there is little if any alignment across foundations or donors in the design of their applications or the details they request with respect to budgets, metrics or more text-based content.

While these online systems bring increased security and consistency, they also create boxes into which organizational and financial needs must fit. The lack of standardization across the field inevitably creates the Babel of Grant Reporting (see below) because unique inputs drive unique outputs and, even more importantly, unique impacts and change. 

3. The BABEL of Grant Reporting

Few topics in philanthropy have taken up more print space than this one, especially given our sector’s love affair with data and metrics. Of course, meaningful impact data usually requires research rigor, which comes at a price rarely affordable by the nonprofit grantee or fully funded by the donor. While we all know that “we are what we measure,” we also know that measuring too much to satisfy each funder reveals little of value.

4. The ANXIETY of Grant Timing, Renewals and Exits

After doing the Dance, navigating the Maze and interpreting the Babel, the grantee too often faces gulps of anxiety rather than the pleasure of a successful sale.

When will the grant arrive? Can we renew, at the same level, and shortcut some or all the steps along the route next year? If not, when will we know, and will you do anything to help us make this transition to new funding?

Again, the fundamental mismatch between the imperatives of the social sector and the practices of philanthropy too often make a victory feel short-lived and as a result, leave less room for partnership between grantseekers and grant providers.

4 Ways to practice “frictionless” philanthropy

How are today’s philanthropists, and their partners, adapting their practices in pursuit of more “frictionless” philanthropy that could inspire the 21st century Isaac Newton to discover a new natural law? Here are 4 examples from the Emerson Collective that have shown initial success:

1. Deliver capacity-building services like an employee benefit.

Identify and provide a range of services that strengthen organizational skills and capacities similar to how employers deliver employee benefits.

Grantees elect to buy a service and submit a receipt to be reimbursed – no grant required! They also submit a brief report (maybe even a few bullet points or sentences) on why it mattered or worked, or didn’t, to determine if it should be offered again.

2. Offer small grants to test new methods of approval and reporting.

Experiment with simple, online methods of allocating small grants that reduce time spent, paperwork submitted and reporting required.

Ask grantees to present the “investment case” while also describing how the funding aligns with their priorities, as well as the priorities of the philanthropy.

A small grant program offers a laboratory to explore what “frictionless” grantmaking might look like in areas where the philanthropist knows less about the grantee, or less about the area in which the grant is being invested.

3. Formalize exit grants in ways that give grantees a sense of control.

Be transparent about grant cycles from the start, and communicate clearly with grantees throughout the relationship.

Jointly craft funding strategies that allow the grantee to plan for the transition and, when possible, fill the funding gap, leveraging access to consulting services or training that could help with the task.

4. Use technology and convening to share knowledge, create learning communities and simplify reporting.

A foundation and/or donor has convening capacity and technological resources that can be used to educate, network, advocate and inform.

These resources can build networks of grantees that can support each other or connect grantees to external resources that they could never afford themselves.

Convening builds networks and power and allows sharing of knowledge and insights. Strong technology support can supplement nonprofit capacity in ways that enhance their work and visibility – creating benefits for all.

Newton did not have the benefit of technology to aid in his discoveries. While he might have lived in a simpler world, it still provided him with ample examples of how people make things too complex and confused. 

What are other practices for grantmakers towards a more “frictionless” philanthropy? Share your ideas in comments below or tweet using #FrictionlessPhilanthropy.

Anne Marie Burgoyne is managing director, social innovation, at Emerson Collective, and Andrea Levere is president of Prosperity Now. Follow @AMInnovation @EmCollective,  @alevere, @ProsperityNow and @NCRP on Twitter. To learn more, read Levere’s recent Responsive Philanthropy article, “Learning from Emerson Collective’s ‘philanthropic recipe’ for these times.”

Every summer for at least 15 years of my life, my siblings and I were shipped to Bowling Green, Kentucky, to spend time with our grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. We spent hot days on the farm, in town, at the public library or at church. 

A highlight for me was helping my aunt set up her third grade classroom for the new school year!

Those summers created a love for teaching and a career in education that has led me to the Southern Education Foundation (SEF), where I’ve been the vice president for just over two years.

I have lived in Atlanta for 10 years. After spending a significant part of my childhood in the South, I am now raising a son there.

SEF, with origins to 1867 and the George Peabody Education Fund, is a historic nonprofit whose mission is to advance equity and excellence in education in the South for low-income and minority students.

We support networks of school system leaders and advocates as they work to advance education justice agendas across the South through direct engagement to educate and organize.

We provide research, tools and, in some cases, capital assistance to organizations for advancing education through policy and practice reforms that improve learning opportunities children of color.

As stated in As the South Grows: Bearing Fruit, poverty is a product of structural inequality, racism, discrimination and the disinvestment of social safeguards like public education, health care and services that protect marginalized and vulnerable people.

At SEF, we believe that we have to do more to address these realities in the American South, especially the Deep South. 

A big challenge in this work is the view among some policymakers and community leaders that there is little that can be done about poverty — that the problem is largely one of personal responsibility.

SEF rejects this premise and points to the overwhelming evidence that education is a key driver of upward mobility. Accordingly, SEF believes investing in education is one of the most powerful strategies to combat poverty in the region.

We are challenged by how to help public schools address the implications of poverty for student learning and development.

Much of the preceding decade has been witness to reform strategies that have taken poverty off the table.

With little evidence that governance reforms (e.g. charter schools) and accountability measures (e.g. more testing and teacher evaluation) have had an impact on learning outcomes for poor children, there is growing recognition that broader and bolder strategies are need to close these achievement gaps.

The good news is that in addition to emerging evidence on effective strategies, we have more examples to bring forward on how our education system can meet the needs of the whole child by providing the wraparound supports children from more advantaged households take for granted.

Education is an intersectional issue. All of the issues raised in Bearing Fruit – health, housing, economic developmental, environmental justice – affect the education of our children.

Family income is a proxy for a range of conditions and circumstances that shape the daily lives of students.

We know that children from low-income families more often endure acute illnesses that lead to chronic absenteeism and lost instructional time.

We know that students who fear deportation, racism or violence cannot concentrate in school.

We know that housing status affects the resources that neighborhood schools receive.

So we need to figure out ways to forge more effective collaboration and coordination between these sectors.  

Strategies like community schools provide an infrastructure for schools to better serve and be served by their communities, leverage their assets and find ways to build cross-sector collaborations so that students receive what they need so they can be ready to learn.  

More broadly, we are struck by the need to build stronger infrastructure among the organizations in the South that advocate for children and youth as part of their efforts to support low-income families and the disadvantaged.

The energy, passion and determination to do their work is clear. But opportunities for personal renewal, sharing stories and strategies are infrequent.

And, while many of these organizations have bench strength on which they can draw, they do not have the necessary financial resources to sustain their leadership structures.

Moreover, while significant grantmaking dollars are invested in education, particularly in direct services, I wonder what would happen if funders invested in human-centered strategies like creating real space for parents, students and community members to advance their vision for a quality educational experience.  

What could we learn from listening to their hopes, dreams and aspirations?

Leah Austin is SEF’s vice president of programs. Follow @SouthernEdFound on Twitter.

“Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.” The words of one of history’s greatest advocates, Helen Keller, ring as true today as a century ago.

That same recognition of the power of collective impact is one of the elements that makes the Kansas Health Foundation’s Health Equity Partnership Initiative (HEPI) a model for nonprofit advocacy.

Our two organizations — Children’s Alliance of Kansas and Kansas Appleseed Center for Law and Justice — share many priorities with HEPI’s eight other grantees, including a commitment to maximizing the health of all Kansans.

But we weren’t collaborating, leaving tons of potential progress on the table. We weren’t enemies, but we were advancing our individual policy agendas.

In a world where political capital is as scarce a resource as state funding, advocacy is often seen as a zero-sum game. And policymakers have much to gain from sowing division among advocates.

The Kansas Health Foundation has changed that dynamic for the better.

From the beginning, this initiative emphasized strategy-alignment, recognizing that a health equity movement won’t hold together if competition from within is constantly prying it apart.

We are accountable to each other and to the foundation for identifying strategies that allow each organization to pursue its own goals, within a collaborative framework that minimizes conflict and actively seeks opportunities for collective impact.

Consider the example of our two organizations:

Appleseed led a successful juvenile justice reform effort, beginning in 2012 and culminating with the enactment of sweeping reform legislation in 2016.

The Children’s Alliance consistently supported the aims of reform, several members raised concerns about the potential consequences for the state’s already-overburdened foster care system.

While policy differences never devolved into animus, they did serve as a barrier to collaboration.

The Kansas Health Foundation funding provided a forum for us to find common ground. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t quick.

The foundation committed considerable time and resources to a strategically driven selection process that made true collaboration among grantees possible.

That began with an objective, third-party assessment of each organization’s strengths and capacity-building needs through TCC Group’s Core Capacity Assessment Tool (CCAT).

But from the beginning, it was about much more than strengthening individual organizations; it was about building a movement to advance health equity.

Those efforts paid off, to the benefit of the health of Kansas children and families. Together, we and our allies successfully advocated for the reversal of Medicaid funding cuts that reduced access to health care for children and families.

Individual advocates were able to document the harm resulting from the Medicaid cuts, with the Children’s Alliance spotlighting the health consequences for children affected by abuse or neglect, and Appleseed widening the lens to show the harm to families statewide.

In isolation, neither organization could have solidified support around a specific policy solution. It was collective advocacy; not just ours, and not just the other grantees, but the wider network of concerned advocates that made it clear to policymakers that reversing the cuts was urgent.

And we recently brought together more than 75 advocates, service providers and academics to address another shared concern: the well-being of vulnerable children and families.

That convening resulted in a consensus agenda for effective implementation of new federal child abuse and neglect prevention legislation. If successful, this effort could contribute to health equity gains for some of Kansas’s most economically disadvantaged families.

We and other grantees have actively collaborated on a range of priorities, including:

• Restoring capacity and stability to the state’s psychiatric residential treatment facilities for children affected by abuse or neglect.
• Expanding Medicaid to strengthen health access for families throughout the state.
• Uniting more than a half-dozen advocates in challenging the state’s Child Welfare Task Force to prioritize child abuse and neglect prevention.
• Supporting directly affected youth and families to speak up in the policy discussions related to foster care and juvenile justice.

We still have differences of perspective and priority on a range of issues. But, due in large part to the collaborative forum provided by the Kansas Health Foundation, we share a commitment to finding common ground to advance policy solutions that improve the health of all Kansas families.

Because what Helen Keller said is true: We can do so much more together.

Christie Appelhanz is executive director of Children’s Alliance of Kansas, and Benet Magnuson is executive director of Kansas Appleseed Center for Law and Justice. Follow @ChristieAppel and @KansasApple on Twitter.

Image by Scott Maxwell. Used under Creative Commons license.